A B-Day Ranger's Way
by LilyGhost
Summary: Stephanie decides that her birthday isn't a big deal, Ranger doesn't agree.


**After non-stop disturbing news coverage, I needed a happy story. Conveniently, Steph has a birthday on the 12th, so I wrote this. Everyone familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes are mine.**

"I'll admit, that grin is pretty sexy," I said to the superhero sporting it, "but I told you this morning that I cancelled my birthday. And nothing has made me regret doing it, which makes today just a regular, ordinary workday. So you don't have to spring for dinner or ask Ella to put in overtime fixing an extra one or baking me something cake-like. I'm just going to finish my work, kiss my cubby goodbye for the night, and go home and have that wilty salad I've put off eating for almost a week now. Pink-edged, brownish leaves should be even healthier than just the normal green ones, right? I've heard that the more colorful the vegetable ... the better it is for you."

I watched, completely mesmerized, as Ranger's grin went from sexy to a full-blown, hundred-watt smile that even included his eyes. Suddenly, I was equal parts turned-on and wary-as-hell. When he chooses to actually _smile_ /smile, it's for something big.

To put off finding out what it could be, I asked instead ... "My eating a salad on purpose makes you happy enough to smile?"

He palmed the arms of my desk chair and leaned over it to kiss the curls I'd tried to contain this morning with a heavy-duty elastic. Some made a break for freedom, but most took pity on me and behaved.

"Yes," Ranger admitted, "but that's not what this one's about."

"What is then?"

"You can't go to your apartment."

I sighed. Telling him not to do something works about as well on him as it does on me, but I was hoping he'd just forget, or let me forget, that today is supposed to be something special. It's not even a really bad day, just one exactly like yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that one.

Since I told Vinnie to start taking yoga classes so he could screw _himself_ over without pulling any muscles, my life and paycheck improved dramatically thanks to the man currently filling my cubby with his presence and my hormones. I know I don't have a solid reason for feeling crabby or depressed, but I still really want to crumple today up and toss it into the dark, dust bunny-infested part of my closet to revisit again next year ... _maybe_.

"I appreciate _you_ , everything you've done for me," I told him, "and what you're trying to do now, but really ... it's okay. I meant what I said. Today's not a big deal. And I'm already a bit cranky, so I won't be good company."

"Why's that?"

"One reason is Woody bet against _himself_ and bet _me_ a large meatball sub that _I'd_ find Pencil-Dick Penison before he did."

"That's not the FTA's name, Babe."

"Yeah, well _his name_ wasn't what he was showing me last time I tracked him down. Even 'Harry Dangledong' would've fit better than _Sterling Elmington Westshire_. His parents clearly didn't know when they named him what a douchebaggy prick their son would turn out to be. I was actually praying my leads wouldn't pan out so _Woody_ would get the honor of meeting him, but damn it if I didn't get lucky ... wait, I guess finding him makes me _unlucky_ , since he's now going to be an early morning pick-up for me."

"You're good at your job, you're not just 'lucky'."

" _Yay_ , me. I'm now so good at phone and people-tracking, I have to see more of these a-holes in person. On top of that cheery realization, this morning Lester supposedly bought me birthday doughnuts to wash down my coffee and egg white wrap-thing, but he was feeling playful and tricked Hal into eating them. So I had to spend two hours convincing my Halosaurus that it was just an innocent prank, and that I'm not mad at him, but I still had to knock back two blueberry bakery-replacements to make him feel better. He continues to cut worried glances my way every time I pass him, though."

"Everyone knows you don't eat blueberry doughnuts."

"Hal thought you'd hurt him less if he got something with fruit inside it. The poor guy. He was screwed no matter which way he looked at it. He's so sweet, he was terrified at just the thought of upsetting me. He was also scared spitless that you'd injure him for going against your weird food rules ..."

"Wanting myself and my men to be running at the highest caliber isn't 'weird'."

"Says you. A person can eat cheesecake and still kick plenty of ass."

"Or you can skip the cake and be capable of chasing an asshole without fear of inducing a heart attack just by eating large quantities of healthier options for the same stats as just _one_ of your preferred snacks. What Ella makes has fewer side-effects."

"Sorry, you didn't sell me on a birthday dinner, and I'm definitely not going for _large_ and _healthy_ over _small_ but _makes me happy_ when it comes to food. Now that you have me thinking about it, maybe I'll skip the salad again and pick up a bucket of fried chicken on the way home."

"You can't go home, Steph."

"And we're right back where we started. Alright, if my birthday is so important to you, you can come home with me. How's that?"

"I'd take you up on it, but someone arranged for your apartment to get a complete overhaul, from security to decor. It's currently uninhabitable."

My jaw hit the floor, or at least my knees. "What? _How?_ I rolled out of my bed, only ..." I checked my watch, "eight hours ago, and it was the same crappy place as it always is."

"I work fast."

"You do, but why?"

"One, because I wanted to do something for you no one else could. I also wanted to make life easier on you. Plus, knowing you're safe, that your heat and air-conditioning will always be working, and no one can enter unexpectedly except for me, makes _my_ life easier."

"Since you can get into anyplace you want to no matter the security system, I'm guessing that it's the ensuring _no one_ else can get to me is what had you smiling."

"Call it a gift to myself."

"And Rex is ...?"

"In my apartment on the sideboard by the front door. I draw the line at letting a rat run around my kitchen."

"Rex is a civilized _hamster_. He only 'runs around' on his wheel, which you know is _inside_ his own pet house."

He gave me an almost visible shrug. "Same thing. Vince picked him up after you left this morning. Ella spent the morning packing up the things you don't already have on seven."

"You have cameras everywhere around here, how did I not see any of this?"

"I have ways."

"So ... you're not joking? I really can't go home?"

"Not unless you want to be inhaling paint fumes and drywall dust as you listen to a five-man crew do a twenty-man job."

"My neighbors are going to hate me even more after this."

"Your apartment will likely inspire jealousy, if not actual hate, when I'm through with it. I've already spoken to the building's owner as an advanced warning."

"I meant because of the noise. Since you think of everything, what are you planning to do if I don't like your choice of paint color or what appliances and furniture you might be putting in?"

"Steph, you lived there when it was one step above an actual dump. Your standards weren't high to begin with."

"Good point."

"And you _will_ like it because you love my apartment so yours will closely resemble it. I figured that would help make the transition faster and less painful."

"What transition?"

"That's a discussion for another day. Let's stick to this one right now. You have a choice ..."

"No I don't ... if my apartment's off limits. I blew my mother off earlier, so I'm not about to go there even if I wanted to, which I don't. Mary Lou and Eddie both have lots of loud children living with them. And Connie and Lula's places contain them, so they're out. That leaves your apartment, which we both know was the driving force behind your choice of birthday 'presents'."

"It was. I was actually referring to you having two choices before bedtime. You can spend the evening here on five celebrating your life with me, Ella and Louis, and the men. Or we can scale down the party and have it be just the two of us in my apartment where we can enjoy what was given to me."

"You got something today? What was it?"

" _You_."

"Oh really? You think so, do you?"

"Yes. My name is right here to prove it," he said, tracing the embroidered 'Rangeman' logo on my long-sleeved uniform shirt.

His company's name is written above my actual breast, but both of my nipples decided to be on the lookout anyway for any attention headed their way.

"But it's _my_ birthday," I protested, sounding far more breathy than amusing.

His dark eyes had stayed on mine and I could feel him releasing all of my mental locks and gates with the sheer force of his will alone. He really can do anything, because he scaled what I thought was an insurmountable emotional fence with the words that sealed _my fate_ and _our future_.

"It _is_ your birthday, Babe, and I'm going to stick _real close_ to you just to make sure you love the fact that you were born as much - if not more - than I do."


End file.
